


gibraltar

by yekaterinunhhhh



Series: little light [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Domesticity, F/F, Tags will be updated accordingly, and there's some sex, sequel to little light, so lots of feelings!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:05:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yekaterinunhhhh/pseuds/yekaterinunhhhh
Summary: “I’m saying we’ll figure this out. I’m not leaving you here, Katya,” Trixie is suddenly very choked up, swallowing around a lump in her throat, “I won’t leave you here.”(alternatively: the one that comes after "little light")





	gibraltar

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you can't let go of a universe and a sequel happens when you're not looking.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been so patient and encouraging, thank you to everyone who was so so kind about "little light" - I hope this does that fic justice in your mind.
> 
> And a big thanks to thesemovingparts here on ao3 for being the first set of eyes to read this and assure me that it isn't terrible.

It’s March of their senior year - Katya stills seems a little stunned that they’ve made it this far, considering how difficult it is to keep things under wraps in Two Rivers. They’ve been together eight months, and Trixie knows they’re young and that things aren’t going to be easy, not for a long time. But when Katya’s hand is in hers under the table at the diner with their friends, or when they’re sitting in the sun on the deck of the lighthouse trading kisses, she knows it’s worth it. 

Family game nights were implemented for the duration of Trixie and Daniel’s senior year, their mother having gone through a bout of pre-departure empty nest syndrome and guilting them into spending more time with her. Not that she had to guilt Trixie into spending time with her; June is Trixie’s best friend and one of the few people in Two Rivers that knows she and Katya are together. She’s been very mindful of what she says about her daughter around other people, because she knows a lot of people in town would take issue with who Trixie loves.

June’s boyfriend Gus knows, too. He hadn't even batted a lash when he’d walked into the living room and caught Katya leaning down to kiss Trixie where her head rested in her lap, fingers brushing through her hair. He’d just cleared his throat to get their attention and asked if they’d like pizza for dinner, which they had then eaten standing around the kitchen island with paper plates held under their chins, laughing at a story about one of June’s coworkers. 

Gus has only been with her mom for about five months, but Trixie can tell how much brighter June’s smile is when he’s around and Trixie hopes that he stays. The thought is a little selfish, maybe, but June is going to be alone soon and Trixie thinks it’ll be easier for her to enjoy living in New York if she knows her mom isn’t lonely.

When Daniel brings Pearl home as his girlfriend for the first time, June splits the young couples up for charades right down the middle, whispering to Trixie that it’s easier to keep their relationship secret if they’re sitting on opposite couches so they can’t unthinkingly touch each other. Trixie just takes her seat by Daniel, laughs, and nods; she knows she means well, and Trixie doesn’t have the heart to tell June that Pearl was the first girl she ever kissed.

By the end of the game the teams have been switched, Trixie realizing that it’s an easier and fairer game if they all just team up with their romantic partners. They’d all agreed, June and Gus ending up in second place and her and Katya winning.

“Daniel, that means you have to hand over the Game Night trophy,” June reminds him. 

He pouts, hugging the gold spray-painted dinosaur close to his chest. “No, they cheated!”

“How did we cheat?” Trixie’s eyebrows shoot up as she stares at Daniel. 

Daniel being a sore loser is no new phenomenon – he had always hated losing, whether it was a videogame that Trixie hardly knew how to play or a race on the playground. Trixie still has a scar on her knee from the scrape she’d gotten at seven years-old when in a fit of post loss anger he had pushed her off of her bike. They had both cried the whole way home, Trixie because of the scrape and Daniel because he knew he was in deep trouble. 

“I don't know how, but you did!” Trixie thinks he might actually start crying if they take away his trophy. “It’s like you have, like, gay telepathy or something.”

June gasps, backhanding Daniel’s shoulder lightly. “Danny, we’re not supposed to tell people they're gay!” 

“Who exactly in this room right now am I not supposed to tell?” Daniel is looking around now, eyes settling on Gus. 

June gestures widely to Pearl, “Your girlfriend!”

Pearl’s eyes widen, and then she's laughing a bit. 

“Oh my God, mom,” Daniel rests his hand on his forehead, cheeks turning a light pink. “Pearl isn't straight, and I’m… fairly certain she knows that Trixie isn't either.”

Pearl nods, eyes gleaming with amusement as she looks at June. 

“How would she know that?” Her gaze flicks to her daughter. “Trixie, are you telling people now? You need to be careful, sweetheart, not everyone here is so open minded.” 

“Mom,” Trixie whines, and she’s blushing now, too, and Katya is looking over at Pearl with the same amusement dancing in her eyes. 

“June, Pearl knows Trixie isn't straight because Pearl was the first girl that Trixie ever kissed.” Katya tries to contain her laughter, knowing it’s not exactly an appropriate time for her usual wheeze, and she ends up letting out a tiny squeak of a giggle that makes Trixie’s thighs clench. 

“Wait, you…” June trails off, staring between Pearl and Trixie with a confused look on her face. 

“Gotta collect the whole set,” Pearl shrugs. 

About half an hour passes, Pearl somehow coaxing the trophy out of Daniel’s arms and across the coffee table to Trixie, a short wink before she pulls Daniel out the front door. Gus and June have taken a bottle of wine out on the back patio, leaving Trixie and Katya alone.

Katya is holding up the dinosaur trophy, squinting at it in the dim light from the table lamp.

“Enjoying my trophy?” Trixie leans closer to Katya, an arm looping around her waist. Her nose bumps along her jawline and she kisses the corner of Katya’s mouth.

“ _ Our _ trophy, thank you very much,” Katya scoffs and sets the trophy on the table, turning in Trixie’s grasp to press their lips together fully. She pushes Trixie back against the couch by her shoulders, slinging a leg over her hips.

Trixie lets her hands slide down from Katya’s waist to grab at her ass as her tongue smooths over Trixie’s bottom lip. Katya reaches up, one hand tangling in Trixie’s curls and the other pressing gently at the base of her throat.

Katya can feel the muscles in Trixie’s thighs clenching under her and she smirks into the kiss, shifting her hips and tugging her hair slightly at the root.

“Trixie, honey,” June calls from the kitchen, and Katya tries not to groan when Trixie pulls her mouth away to answer.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t Daniel tell you that you’ve got mail in here?”

Trixie rolls her eyes, “Daniel never tells me anything, mom. I’ll get it later.”

June sticks her head around the corner, a hand with an envelope following. “It’s from Columbia.”

Katya nearly falls on the floor in Trixie’s haste to stand, but manages to narrowly escape a tumble. Trixie gives Katya a sheepish look, feels a little guilty about moving so suddenly, but she has a letter from her dream school and she’s not sure she could’ve waited any longer to get it.

Trembling fingers tear through the seal and hold up the letter, paper wobbling in the dim lighting.

The three of them are completely silent, a hush falling over the room as Trixie reads the words in front of her and Katya and June wait to either comfort or congratulate her.

“Ms. Mattel,” She starts, and she can hear both women hold their breath. “I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions has admitted you to Columbia University for the --”

Trixie can’t finish the sentence before June is squealing, hopping up and down with her hands clapping together. Katya is beaming at her from the couch, mouths a silent ‘I love you’ as June starts to babble incessantly about deposits and scholarships and student loans.

Trixie is smiling, nodding, but she isn’t absorbing a single thing that June says. Her heart is swelling, feels like it’s going to take up her entire chest cavity any second now as she thinks about walking down a sidewalk near Columbia with Katya’s hand in hers.

Their phones chime in unison and Trixie and Katya both pull them out, a group text from Adore inviting them to a bonfire to celebrate the first warm day of the year. Katya replies that they’ll be there, and that there’s more to celebrate than just the weather outside.

“I’m going to run home quick and talk to my parents,” Katya says, moving to stand in front of Trixie. She gives her a quick peck before slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Do you want me to pick you up or just meet you at Adore’s?”

Trixie smiles and squeezes Katya’s hand. “I’ll meet you there.”

Katya nods, leaning up to kiss Trixie once more before she leaves.

“She’s a good one,” June says on her way back through the kitchen toward the patio doors, “you hold onto her.”

“I plan on it,” Trixie murmurs mostly to herself.

She runs upstairs, setting the acceptance letter on her desk before shuffling through the pile of clothes on her closet floor to find a sweatshirt. She really should hang things up, but now that she’s leaving for New York it seems silly to clean up before she has to pack. 

Trixie shoves an extra set of clothes into a small duffel bag to toss into her trunk, just in case she ends up staying the night at Adore’s. It’s a Friday night so she’s anticipating there will be alcohol involved, though she’s okay with being proven wrong.

She pulls her phone from her back pocket to text Adore.

 

**On my way soon. Need me to get anything?**

 

“I’m leaving, mom! Love you!” Trixie calls over her shoulder as she heads to the front door.

“Love you, be safe,” June calls back.

 

**If you could grab some soda that would be rad. I’ve got snacks.**

 

Trixie backs out of the driveway and starts the drive to Adore’s, stopping to pull into the convenience store at the end of her street. She tries not to shudder at the once(or twice)-over Jackson gives her as he bags the soda she’s set on the counter in front of him.

He hadn’t bothered her since Katya took him down when they first started talking — at least not physically. There are still stares that linger a few moments too long when he sees her in the grocery store and comments that leave an uneasy feeling when she’s buying slushies and Sunchips at the minimart, but he hasn’t laid a finger on her since that day on the beach that Katya brought him to his knees. 

She wonders, sometimes, if he’d learned anything at all from the encounter. She can’t help but think about it when she sees him hanging around outside Sully’s with whatever girl he’s seeing that week.

Trixie practically throws the money at him, so distraught at her worries that she’s driving herself a bit crazy standing there. Jackson says something in a greasy drawl that Trixie is fortunate enough to not understand, and then she’s grabbing her bags from the counter and heading to Adore’s.

Katya’s car is parked on the front lawn next to Pearl’s when Trixie pulls into the driveway, and Trixie assumes Daniel arrived with her and will be needing a ride home later. 

“Trixie!” Adore shouts from the front door, seconds before she barrels across the distance between them. Her arms are wrapped around Trixie’s waist before Trixie has a chance to shut her car door.

“I’m so proud of you! I knew you would get in.” 

“Katya told you then, I assume?” Trixie laughs, reciprocating the hug. 

“No, she’s out back with Pearl smoking without me, the bitches,” Adore releases Trixie from her grip. “Daniel told me, actually. Apparently your mom was so excited she called him.”

Trixie smiles, rolls her eyes performatively while she opens the back door. “Sounds like June, yeah.”

“There are worse problems you could have than having a mother who’s obsessed with you.” Adore reaches into the car and grabs two bags, leaving one for Trixie to carry.

“My mom is  _ not  _ obsessed with me.”

“Yes she is,” Daniel calls from the front door. 

“Come on, Trix. She thinks the sun shines out of your ass! She tells  _ everyone  _ she comes into contact with that you’re the valedictorian. Even if she does still refer to you as ‘bug’ while she’s doing it.” Adore offers her evidence as the two girls walk across the lawn.

“God, I wish she’d stop doing that,” Trixie blushes, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. 

“Aw,” Farrah coos from her perch next to the sink, “I think it’s adorable that she still uses your childhood nickname.” 

Trixie tucks bottles of soda into the fridge and suppresses a groan. “Because ‘adorable’ is just the thing someone who is about to graduate and move away for college wants to be called.”

“Bug,” Adore sets a hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “There’s, like, people that are dying.”

The group bursts into laughter, Pearl coming in through the sliding glass door just as the commotion dies down.

“What did I miss?” She leans her hip into Daniel’s side and his arm easily moves to accommodate her. 

“Trixie’s being melodramatic.”

“So nothing new,” Pearl laughs. 

Trixie sticks her tongue out at her but ends up laughing, too, with a quick shrug. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Adore is standing between Farrah’s legs, hands on her thighs. Even though they had broken up months ago (it wasn’t  _ really _ a breakup, according to Adore, because they were only friends-with-benefits to begin with) they still gravitated toward each other. Adore orbited around Farrah like she was the sun -- and Trixie isn’t sure when the two of them will figure out that they should actually date, but the rest of the friend group had a pool going. Katya and Trixie had put their money together and said they’d be together by the end of the summer.

Trixie looks around the room for Katya, but comes up empty. “Pearl?”

“Hm?” Pearl mutters, peeling herself away from Daniel.

Trixie tries not to cringe as Daniel starts to kiss Pearl’s neck. “Where did you leave Katya?”

“She was going to start the fire, I think. Or something like that. She’s out back.”

“You left my high girlfriend alone to start a fire?” Trixie heads toward the door, heaving a sigh.

Pearl huffs a short laugh, “She’s hardly even high, I’m sure she’s fine.”

Trixie shuts the door behind her, leaving the noise of the house and stepping out into the silence. The wind is rustling in the trees and the sun is sinking behind them in the distance, golden rays filtering through the new leaves. She can see Katya by the firepit, dark denim tucked into worn combat boots while the evening light turns her ivory sweater a delicate shade of yellow. Katya wears it all the time, so while its soft cable knit makes it Trixie’s favorite sweater to steal when she spends the night, she’s always sure to leave it behind when she goes home. 

“Hey,” Trixie says softly when she’s closed the distance between them. “Do you need any help?”

“I’ve got it,” Katya replies without looking up from the firewood. She arranges kindling and strikes a match, and Trixie brushes off the stray grass clippings that ended up on top of the tree stumps they use as seating around the fire. 

It stays like that for a while, Katya crouched near the firepit and Trixie steps away, both silent. Something feels off to Trixie, like the two of them are just slightly off-balance, a picture frame hung on a wall not centered. She doesn’t really notice it until the rest of the group comes out and Katya sits down across the circle from her.

It’s not really a personal affront to Trixie -- she’s capable of being away from Katya, and she can recognize that she has no obligation to seek Trixie out.

But Trixie and Katya always sit on these two specific stumps,  _ always _ , they had joked often enough about carving their initials into them that Katya eventually had. And now Katya’s sitting across the circle, on the stump that’s always left empty.

“Can you pass the marshmallows?” She asks, picking up a stick. 

Adore makes eye contact with Trixie before she hands the bag to Farrah, who hands the marshmallows to Katya. She murmurs a ‘thank-you’ before skewering a marshmallow and holding it over the fire. 

That’s when Trixie notices. The bee-shaped gold pin is missing from the collar of Katya’s flannel where it’s tucked beneath her shirt.

She feels like she’s been sucker-punched directly in the gut. She supposes, rationally, that Katya could’ve just taken it off to wash the shirt and forgotten to put it back on before she left. But there’s something about the way the point of her collar is sitting that lets Trixie know that she had just recently taken the pin Trixie had given her for their six-month anniversary off of the fabric.

Her stomach churns and she waves the marshmallows away when Pearl tries to pass them her way. 

There’s a conversation going on, and Trixie is trying to pay attention but she can’t stop thinking about the pin. She can’t stop thinking about the pin and about the distance between them, about the empty stump next to Trixie; can’t stop thinking about what it means.

The only thing that had changed recently was that Trixie was accepted to Columbia. But Katya had been genuinely excited for her, Trixie could tell by the light behind her eyes.

“Kat,” Trixie finally gathers the courage to say. The circle falls quiet, conversation halting and four sets of eyes flicking between the girls. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” Katya shrugs. She looks up, and to anyone but Trixie it probably looks like she’s making eye contact. But her gaze is off to the side.

She makes no move to stand.

“In private, please.”

Trixie gets up, leading Katya away from the group. She settles on ducking behind the toolshed, relieved when she turns around and Katya has actually followed her.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah.” Katya shifts her weight between her feet.

Trixie glances down to her hands and finds them closed into fists, a defense Katya has developed to keep her nervous finger twitching as hidden as possible. “Please don’t lie to me, Katya. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she insists, eyes finally meeting Trixie’s. “I’m fine. Now can I get back to my marshmallow before Daniel lets it burn?”

Katya doesn’t wait for Trixie to respond before she’s trodding back over the damp grass, squished footprints tamped into the ground behind her. 

Trixie scoffs quietly, resolving not to cross her arms and pout like a child. If Katya doesn’t want to talk to her, there’s nothing Trixie can do about that. But she’ll be damned if she lets this conversation be the end of her trying.

Trixie marches back to the circle and shoves Daniel’s shoulder, pushing him to sit on the empty stump on the other side of Pearl while she sits down next to Katya. 

To her credit, Katya tries after that to act normal, to keep involved in the conversation about rare dog breeds that Farrah had started. 

“They’re  _ cute _ ,” Farrah insists. “It doesn’t matter that they’re hairless, that’s not their fault!”

“They are most certainly not cute,” Adore shakes her head. “Those pictures you sent me of them yesterday made their way into my nightmares. They’re weird, right Trixie?”

Trixie looks up from the ground, “Um, sure?”

Farrah looks deeply offended and Adore looks triumphant. Trixie leans over to Katya, “What did I just agree to?”

Katya opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything, her eyes scanning Trixie’s before she turns her head to look at Farrah.

“That my favorite rare dog breed is ugly,” Farrah sighs.

“Oh,” Trixie frowns. “Sorry.”

Adore and Farrah are talking, Pearl is laughing at something Daniel is saying, but there’s silence between Trixie and Katya for a few more minutes before Trixie can’t take it anymore. She leans over again to whisper to Katya. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I fucking said nothing is wrong, God, will you just stop it?” Katya snaps, shifting away from Trixie and standing up from the stump. 

All the conversations from the rest of the group have stopped, and they’re all staring and Trixie can feel tears pricking at her eyes and her cheeks flushing and she hopes that the orange light of the fire is masking it at all. Her hand clenches around the hem of the oversized sleeve of her sweatshirt and she clears her throat softly - she’s not going to cry, not in front of all of them and not right now.

“Katya, I know you,” her voice has dropped slightly, but it’s dead silent except for the popping and crackling of the burning wood and she knows that they can all hear her. “I know everything about you, I know how you laugh when you think something’s really stupid and I know how you like tea more than coffee but you would never admit that to your dad because he thinks tea is for wimps. I know what your hair smells like when you get out of the shower and I know exactly where on your forehead to rub circles to get rid of your tension headaches, and I  _ know _ when something is wrong. I know when there’s something you’re not telling me,” Trixie is mad at herself now, mad that her eyes are still tearing up and mad that her voice is shaking, mad that her body is betraying her when all she wants is to appear strong for Katya. “Something isn’t right and I need you to tell me what it is, because I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.”

There’s a tense silence, the two of them fixated on each other and ignoring the way their friends’ eyes are glued to the scene. The flame flickers and sends a flash of light dancing over Katya’s features and washing her eyes in red. She looks downright apathetic, her jaw set and eyes unblinking, her spine straight, and it’s kind of breaking Trixie’s heart to see Katya in a way that she’s never seen her before, to see her acting like she doesn’t even care about Trixie. Like she doesn't care if they can salvage this.

“You can’t fix it,” She says quietly.

Trixie is sure her heart has stopped beating. There’s no way, there has to be something. If it’s something Trixie has done, a mistake she’s made, there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do to fix it. She would go to the ends of the earth for Katya, she’d walk through the fire that’s burning two feet away from them if that would somehow help things.

“You’re better than me, Trixie.” Katya isn’t apathetic anymore, her voice is raising and her eyes are angry and Trixie doesn’t know what she’s done wrong. “You’re smarter than me! You deserve better than me! And I’m not going to be the idiot that sits around and waits for you to realize that.”

Then Katya’s snatching her phone off the tree stump and marching away, and Trixie isn’t sure what just happened but it feels like the end.

She doesn’t know how to let it be the end. Katya has made it clear that she doesn’t want to work whatever is happening out, and now she’s left the party and Trixie can hear her car starting up in the driveway. 

When Trixie looks up they’re all staring at her, except for Farrah who at least has enough kindness (and maybe shame) to pretend to be focused on her manicure. Their eyes are soft, full of pity, and Trixie hates it. She hates it. She’d rather them be mad at her, too, than be looking at her like she’s some kind of kicked puppy. The pity does nothing but make her eyes water even more, embarrassment leaking from her tear ducts leaving hot trails of mascara down her cheeks. 

Pearl opens her mouth to say something but Trixie can’t stand here and listen, she can’t stand here and look at them knowing that they’re all thinking about Katya walking away from her. She quickly makes her way back into the house and locks herself in the half bath under the stairs.

Trixie catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, eyeliner smudged and cheeks blotched red. The bright white lighting makes her look even worse than she feels, and she hiccups a sob at her reflection before sinking to the floor, knees pressed to her chest.

After a few minutes have passed there’s a soft knock on the door. The knees of Trixie’s jeans are damp from where she’d been resting her face against them, and she scrubs a hand under her nose before murmuring a quiet “come in.”

She’s hoping against hope that it’s Katya, but she tries not to show her disappointment when Adore is the one to sit down beside her.

“Hey, bug,” she wraps an arm around Trixie’s shoulder. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” she sighs, “I’m fine, I don’t need to be comforted with an old nickname.” She doesn’t want pity, but as Trixie leans into Adore’s side she can’t deny the familiar name is easing some of the tightness in her chest.

Trixie rests her head against her shoulder and Adore makes a sad noise in the back of her throat as her fingers tangle into Trixie’s curls.

“You’re not fine, Trixie.” Adore doesn’t turn her head to look at Trixie, and Trixie is grateful for it. She closes her eyes against the new flood of tears.

“And that’s alright, you don’t have to be,” she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “What happened out there?”

“I don’t even know.” Trixie shakes her head, sniffling to hold back a sob. “I just need to get over it, it’s whatever. It’s stupid. You were fine when you and Farrah broke things off.”

“Those are completely different situations, bug. Farrah and I were never serious, all we ever did was fuck without any romantic feelings involved. You and Katya are so much more than that. When we stopped having sex it was nothing like this.”

Trixie peeks up at Adore, scooting back a couple of inches. “It wasn’t?”

“God, no!” Adore huffs a laugh, turning to face her friend. “You and Katya aren’t just fuck buddies, you’re in an actual relationship--”

“We were. Past tense. Because I think I just got dumped in front of all of our friends.” Trixie spits the words, hurt and bitter.

“No, you  _ are _ . That wasn’t the end of things. It just… it sounds like she’s scared, Trix. It sounds like she loves you but something is getting in the way.” She scoots forward, grabbing both of Trixie’s hands and making direct eye contact. “Find her. You both need to talk this out. She needs to tell you what she’s afraid of and you need to figure out a way around that together.”

“Even if she did want to talk, how am I supposed to know where she is?” Trixie frowns. She’s not entirely keen on the idea of knocking on Katya’s front door and facing Mr. and Mrs. Zamo looking like she does right now.

“Girl,” Adore raises an eyebrow at her. “You gave an entire speech about how well you know Katya. She’s hurt and she’s scared. If anyone knows where she is, it’s you.”

Sure enough, when Trixie pulls up to the lighthouse Katya’s car is parked out front, blue paint sparkling in the moonlight that’s breaking through the trees. Her bike is hooked onto the rack over the spare tire, and the empty spot behind it where Trixie’s bike is usually kept makes her chest ache.

The door is hanging open a crack and she pushes through, takes a steadying breath before starting up the stairs.

She’s not sure what to say, but she’s hoping she’ll figure it out in the moment. Katya’s never been one to be comforted by planned out, rehearsed, measured words anyway -- and she’s always understood Trixie’s convoluted nonsense.

“I’m sorry,” Katya murmurs before Trixie can say anything.

She stops just outside the door, frozen in place. “For what?”

Katya doesn’t turn back to look at Trixie, her hands gripping white-knuckled onto the railing in front of her. Trixie takes a chance, eases herself down into the space next to Katya and tries not to feel the sting when Katya shifts ever-so-slightly away from her.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that in front of everyone,” Katya shakes her head. “I guess I just wanted to make it easier. But I don’t think anything will make it easier.”

“Make what easier?” Trixie’s heart is hammering in her chest, her palms starting to sweat. “Katya, you’re scaring me.”

A million scenarios are running through Trixie’s mind at once. Katya’s cheating on her. Or she thinks Trixie is cheating. Katya isn’t in love with Trixie anymore. Maybe the rumors caught up to Katya’s dad, or someone called Immigration and Katya’s family has to move back to Russia.

None of the problems in her head are solvable, and it’s terrifying to think about them all at once. It’s paralyzing to think about all the things that could go wrong.

Katya sniffles, pushing her sweater-pawed hand under her eyes to soak up her tears.

“I didn’t get in.”

Trixie’s stomach sinks into her toes. “You didn’t get in where?”

“Columbia. Your dream school. I didn’t get in. And I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, but I can’t hold you back.” Her sleeves are both soaked and stained with mascara and eyeliner, but her tears show no signs of stopping.

“We’ll figure it out, Katya, I swear we will.” Trixie reaches to take Katya’s hands, but Katya yanks them away.

“What is there to figure out, Trixie? What is there to be done? There’s nothing. You’ll go away to Columbia, you’ll hold a new girl’s hand and kiss them in public and you won’t be scared, you’ll forget about me and I’ll be happy for you. But I’ll be stuck here, I’ll probably marry the mechanic’s son like his dad wants me to, live a blue-collar life in a tiny house with three kids I never wanted married to someone I can’t even love because he’s not  _ you _ . I’m trying to make my peace with that. I’m trying to let you go, Trixie. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Trixie can’t believe what she’s hearing. Out of all of the scenarios she had imagined, this wasn’t one of them. She hadn’t prepared to handle this one.

“So, what? You just want me to give up?” Trixie’s voice has dropped down to a whisper, she’s never been more confused and more hurt and she can see that Katya doesn’t want this, she can tell Katya doesn’t want this to be the end. But they’re both scared, neither one of them knows what comes next and from this high up the waves beating at the shoreline look far too treacherous to brave.

Katya doesn’t say anything, staring at the ground hundreds of feet below them. Trixie knows that’s not what Katya wants, but Katya is too selfless to even think of asking Trixie to change her plans.

“No,” Trixie says firmly. 

Katya’s head swivels to squint at Trixie in bewilderment, “What do you _ mean _ ‘no’? It’s not a question, Trixie. I didn’t get in.”

“So what? There are plenty of schools in New York -- you don’t even have to go to school, if that’s an issue. You can just work -- or there’s trade schools, or a million other options. Just because you didn’t get into Columbia doesn’t mean you can’t live in New York,” Katya’s face has softened and her tears have stopped, and Trixie reaches out again and takes Katya’s hands. This time, she lets her. “Just because you didn’t get into Columbia doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you.”

Katya thinks for a moment, then squeezes both of Trixie’s hands with a soft smile. “So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’ll figure this out. I’m not leaving you here, Katya,” Trixie is suddenly very choked up, swallowing around a lump in her throat, “I won’t leave you here.”

* * *

They both work long hours to pay for their apartment, Trixie at a coffee shop near campus and Katya as a nanny to three-year-old twin boys. 

The cramped studio is dingy, with grey linoleum flooring that’s bubbled up around the edges. Though it stretches from floor to ceiling, nearly 10 feet, there’s only one window with thick bars over it.  And even if they’ve warmed up the space with the electric fireplace Gus had bought them as a Graduation gift, the ancient radiator clanks so loudly at night it keeps Trixie awake until Katya rolls over and pulls Trixie’s body against hers so that she can tuck her head into the crook of her neck.

But on the rare Sunday mornings that they both have off from work, Katya wakes Trixie up with her nose between her thighs and then Trixie makes blueberry pancakes. They brush their teeth and scrub their faces clean and walk hand-in-hand down to the park, where they lay out a blanket and Trixie lounges with her head in Katya’s lap. Katya will open her notebook and read Trixie the poems she has written about the girl who made her believe in miracles, the girl who made her believe that she was magic and that she had been the whole time.

And Trixie will smile softly into the sky, feel the tiny tug of Katya’s fingers working small braids into random pieces of her hair, and let herself doze under the warm gaze of the sun knowing that they’ve made it.

The apartment is a fourth floor walk-up, the shelves in the refrigerator fall pretty frequently, the bathtub is too short to soak in, and they have to walk four blocks carrying all of their laundry when they need clean clothes, but they’ve done it. They’re in a home that they’ve made together, Katya’s matryoshka dolls lined up on the windowsill and Trixie’s beat-up acoustic guitar with the hand-painted sunflowers on the body standing on its own in the corner. Trixie can go to the coffee shop on open mic nights and sing songs about the girl with the sun in her smile, the girl who made Trixie bloom, she can sing songs about the girl she is madly in love with who is waiting for her at the table nearest the stage, a cup of decaf coffee clutched in her hands. And she can get up from the stool, give a modest bow and hop off stage, directly into Katya’s lap, plant a kiss on her lips and giggle into her neck without worrying about people hurting them for loving each other.

And in knowing that, all the hard work and the tears and the months spent stressing over finances are worth it. It’s still tight sometimes, spoonfuls of peanut butter and bowls of rice when too many bills are due at once. 

But now Trixie can love Katya loudly and unapologetically, and that’s her real dream.

 

“Hey,” she whispers late one night when they’re both tucked in bed, just a short distance from each other. Katya is on her side, her back to Trixie, the way she has been since they settled into their spaces about fifteen minutes ago. 

Katya hums a short, sleepy response; she knows at this point what Trixie is going to say, it’s the same comment every night just before they fall asleep but neither one of them grows tired of it.

“I wanna hold your hand,” Trixie murmurs softly, scooting closer, her hand searching. They don’t have to open their eyes at this point – they’ve been finding each other in the dark for a long time now.

Katya rolls over, tangles her fingers through Trixie’s, gives a short yawn and a light squeeze of Trixie’s hand. Trixie relaxes against her pillow, squeezing in reply. And they fall asleep just like that, like every night, warm hands bridging the gap between their bodies.

* * *

 

When Christmas rolls around, finances are stretched thin enough that they can’t afford to fly home. June had been devastated, but Trixie had promised to wait to open her present until they could FaceTime each other and the promise of seeing her daughter’s face while she opened her gift was enough to placate her.

Trixie has popped one tray of cutout cookies into the oven and is about ready to roll out more dough when she makes the mistake of asking Katya to flour the work surface.

“Hey,” Trixie whines when Katya flicks flour at her sleeve. “That’s not cool, Kat.”

“Isn’t it?” Katya raises a challenging brow, hand moving toward the flour again.

“Don’t you dare,” Trixie warns, but it’s half a second too late and now she’s covered in flour. She exhales harshly through her nose, setting the plastic wrapped dough down on the counter. “Why are you like this?”

Katya smirks, flicks more flour and this time it lands in Trixie’s curls. “Like what?”

“Childish, Katya,” Trixie reaches up to shake the flour out of the strands. “You’re being really childish.” She turns her back to Katya, flouring the cutting board herself.

“Oh, come on,” Katya whines, wrapping her arms around Trixie’s waist from behind, resting her chin on Trixie’s shoulder. “Lighten up a little.”

“‘Lighten up’? You want me to -- alright, you know what? You’re right,” Trixie spins around in Katya’s arms. “I should lighten up,” she agrees with a smirk, lifting her hand to sprinkle flour over Katya’s head.

Katya lets out a shrieking laugh, grabbing a handful of flour from the counter behind Trixie and flinging it while backing away toward the couch. Trixie follows after her, flour floating in the air between them until Trixie eventually lunges at Katya, bringing her down to the faux fur rug that sits in front of the fireplace. 

Their chests are pressed together and Trixie is leaning on her elbows to look Katya in the eye, both of them out-of-breath with laughter and exertion. She leans forward when her breathing has calmed a bit to brush her thumb over Katya’s bottom lip, removing a splotch of flour. She presses a soft kiss to Katya’s chin, one to each cheek, her nose, then finally lets their lips meet.

Trixie is about to roll off to the side of Katya, but she has different plans. Both of her hands reach up, one on Trixie’s cheek and the other sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck as she kisses Trixie once more.

The kiss is slow and deep, heat building as they explore each other’s mouths. Katya sinks her teeth gently into Trixie’s lower lip and her mouth falls open, letting out a soft sigh. 

Katya’s hands migrate down to Trixie’s hips, roaming over her ass before she slides her fingers under the hem of Trixie’s sweater. The fuzzy fabric slips up easily, Katya’s hands rubbing over Trixie’s back. She runs her fingertips down either side of her spine before pressing them against Trixie’s waist. 

Trixie could let Katya kiss her all day long and never grow tired of it, Katya’s lips smooth and firm against her own, against her neck, her jaw. She could be perfectly content laying back and letting Katya pepper her entire body with kisses.

But when Katya squeezes her hand between their bodies to gently pinch at Trixie’s nipple through her unlined bra, she knows there’s more on the agenda than kissing. And she doesn’t mind one bit.

Trixie moves to a sitting position with her thighs on either side of Katya’s hips and makes eye contact as she grabs the bottom hem of her sweater. She pulls the garment up over her head, tosses it on the ground, and barely has a moment to blink before Katya is sitting up to kiss her collarbones. 

Through the lace of her bra, Katya sucks her nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling delicately around the hardening bud before she pulls back, blowing a cold stream of air over the wetness left behind from her saliva. Trixie’s back arches, pushing her chest closer to Katya’s face and she takes the opportunity to give attention to the other nipple. 

Trixie threads her fingers through Katya’s loose waves, scratching her nails lightly over her scalp. Katya lets out a small moan at the sensation, hands scrabbling at the hook of Trixie’s bra to free her pendulous tits.

Katya takes both breasts in her hands and kisses up Trixie’s neck, grazes her teeth over her pulse point.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she whispers into Trixie’s skin. “The most beautiful person to ever exist.” Her hands slide down Trixie’s abdomen, back around to grab her ass. 

“Shut up,” Trixie murmurs, a blush rising to her cheeks as she tilts her head to the side slightly.

Katya nips at her neck and gives one firm slap to her ass, “Why don’t you make me, princess?”

Trixie raises a brow at Katya before she pushes her shoulders, gently but insistently forcing her down so her back meets the rug again. She stands up quickly to peel her leggings down her legs, her pink thong going with them. Her knees settle on either side of Katya’s neck as she hovers over her chin, reaching down to push her hair out of her eyes.

There’s a brief moment of eye contact before Katya gives a short nod of consent and Trixie lowers herself onto her mouth.

She wastes no time getting to work, immediately lapping at Trixie’s folds. Trixie hums faintly as she looks down at Katya, her fingers combing through her hair before she smooths a thumb just above her brow.

“You look so gorgeous between my thighs,” Trixie sighs. “So, so gorgeous.”

Katya’s eyes crinkle gently at the corners and she makes eye contact with Trixie. She grasps onto Trixie’s ass cheeks again, kneading gently, and then her tongue flicks at Trixie’s clit.

“Oh, Jesus,” Trixie gasps, hips rutting against Katya’s tongue. 

She lets her neck relax and her tongue falls away from Trixie, a smirk on her face. “He’s not in right now, can I take a message?”

“Shut up,” Trixie groans and sits forward, pushing herself back over Katya’s mouth and rocking rhythmically. “God, you’re not fucking funny, do you know that? Not at all,” a curse falls from Trixie’s lips, “But you’re so good with your tongue I think I can forgive you.”

Katya huffs a brief laugh between Trixie’s legs, then she’s easing a finger into Trixie’s warmth and Trixie whimpers. Her hips push forward and Katya can tell that she wants more. Trixie knows she can be kind of a brat but she also knows that Katya would never deny her, could never stand to see her wanting for anything.

So Katya slides another finger in alongside the first, fucks Trixie open slowly as her tongue circles her clit. Trixie is starting to get a little wobbly above her, and her thighs begin to tremble when Katya’s lips close around the sensitive bundle of nerves and create suction, tongue gliding smoothly.

Katya pulls her fingers out of Trixie and she whines, a pout immediately taking over her face. The hands on her hips let Trixie know that Katya wants her to lie down, so she complies easily, naked back against plush faux fur.

Trixie smiles down at Katya as she settles between her thighs again, kissing over the sensitive inner portions of them before returning her tongue to her clit. She slides two fingers in easily, fucks her slow and hard for a bit before easing a third finger in. 

Katya’s fingers are more slender than Trixie’s, so it’s not as much of a stretch as when Katya tells Trixie to push three fingers into herself when she’s been distracting Katya, gazing over the top of her laptop screen with a look of vague disinterest that makes Trixie’s heart thump a little harder in her chest. But it’s still a pleasant fullness, just a tinge of pain to contrast the pleasure.

Trixie takes in Katya between her thighs, still fully clothed in stark contrast to her own nakedness. Her eyes flutter closed as Katya bites and sucks gently at her inner thighs, fingers increasing the pace. She can feel her own muscles beginning to quiver under Katya’s mouth, so there’s no way that Katya can’t tell. She doesn’t need Trixie to tell her she’s close, Katya knows Trixie like the back of her hand, knows her sounds and the way her muscles quake, knows very well how to make her come undone.

Katya uses her free hand to press her thumb against Trixie’s clit. She curls her fingers once, Trixie’s chest is heaving, twice, her hands grasp at the faux fur, three times, and that’s it. Trixie’s coming with a breathless whine of Katya’s name, over and over, and Katya is fucking her through it with whispered praises.

Trixie is still trembling a bit when Katya lays on the rug next to her, kissing her softly with wet lips that Trixie can taste herself on. They settle into each other, Trixie rolling onto her side to rest her head in the crook of Katya’s neck.

Snow is falling gently outside, the entire world turning a stunning, soft rose gold, and they fall asleep like that, Katya murmuring over and over again how beautiful Trixie is.

Trixie doesn’t know how much time has passed when they’re awakened by the smoke detector screeching at them and smoke spilling through the cracks around the oven door, but they spring into action like they hadn’t even been asleep. Katya turns the oven off, makes sure through the glass door that the cookies are just blackened, not actually on fire. Trixie stands under the smoke detector, still fully naked, waving a baking sheet under it to clear the smoke.

When the noise has stopped, the two collapse into a fit of giggles that leave them with tears in their eyes.

“I thought that only happened in movies,” Trixie says as she dabs at her tear ducts. 

Katya just continues wheezing in response.

After they’ve calmed down, they get bundled up in coats and scarves and boots and trudge down to the bodega. They come back with a package of oreos and hot chocolate mix, and they cuddle up on the couch watching Christmas movies on Katya’s laptop.

The next morning, Katya wakes Trixie up with french toast and strawberries in bed. There’s a small box on the tray next to the coffee with a bow stuck on the top, and Trixie picks it up.

“Merry Christmas,” Katya says with a soft smile.

Trixie opens the box and nearly cries when she sees the small circular pendant. There’s a lighthouse etched into the gold disc.

“I, um,” Katya wrings her hands, clears her throat, “I was thinking about what I could get you, and I thought this was a good idea. It’s, like -- the lighthouse was the first time I knew I was really going to fall in love with you.”

Tears are pooling in Trixie’s eyes as Katya takes her hand.

“And if you think about what lighthouses are, what their function is, they’re, just. Steady in the storms. They don’t move, they don’t change. But they shine a light out when it’s needed most, and you were that for me. You still are.”

Trixie blinks hard, swallows around the lump in her throat and lets out a small laugh. “Well my gift for you looks really lame now.”

Katya laughs, pulls Trixie into her arms, and presses a kiss to her temple. “I don’t need a gift, anyway. I’ve got you.”


End file.
